


A Bird and A Fish

by phantomessangel



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, F/M, Gen, Humor, Other, deviating from the plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 21:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17836757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomessangel/pseuds/phantomessangel
Summary: "A bird may love a fish, but where would they live?"Rey, a servant in her step father's house, meets the uncouth, reckless, and fiery Ben, prince of France. Though they clash initially, there seems to be something that keeps drawing them together.





	A Bird and A Fish

**Prologue:**

"Madam you are on dangerous ground!"

His voice was low, dark and dripping with a layer of contempt she'd never heard before.

It sent gooseflesh along her arms.

His eyes narrowed at her, a steely gaze levelled in her direction as he balled his long, pale hands into tight fists, the fissures of his veins protruding along the tones, pale arms that lay exposed near the wrist.

"Is what they say true?" He murmured softly, a sharp edge cutting each word, as he searched her face, his own unreadable.. "Are you what they say you are?"

Rey swallowed, searching the man's face, hoping to see some semblance of the kind, gentleness she's known him to exhibit. It had to be there somewhere. He couldn't have changed so drastically in such a short time.

She was certain she knew him. She was certain she could make him understand…

Wasn't she?

"Tell me." His voice had taken on a raw, pained edge to it and Rey was afraid what she might find if she looked into his eyes.

This is certainly not how she wanted things to go.

"I…"

Rey's heart hammed wildly in her chest as the man, spurned by her hesitation, refused to wait for her answer any longer and, instead, strode towards her, a dark fury coloring is features, his long footfalls echoing along the dark cobbled walkway that separated them.

**Chapter 1: Shirking**

It was the loud crash and the sound of glass shattering against the greystone that woke the queen.

With a start she slipped from the bed, a well of panic pooling in her stomach as she hastened to the door, the curses of her husband reverberating off the walls as the sound of his slippered feet slapping against the floor tickled her ears.

The king let out a series of curses and the queen remarked, as she threw the door open, that her husband hadn't even had time to dress.

Something must truly be wrong.

To her surprise, the king lobbed another glass against the wall. She watched with fascination and a little bit of trepidation, as the clear glass shattered, sprinkling shards across the hallway.

The man set out a series of curses.

"Damn! That stupid, arrogant...who does he think he is?" he all but snarled, his hands balling into fists, a loose tendril of hair falling across his forehead as he continued to pace up and down the hall.

"Who?" she remarked quietly, "What has happened to cause such an uproar?"

The king stopped short, his head turning slowly to face her. He eyed her carefully, his lips pursed into a thin line as he assessed her face.

"The King of Spain" He spat, " Has insisted that he marry before the end of the year to ensure the alliance."

The queen blanched lightly at the confession, noting the way her husband's eyes glittered with disdain and a little panic as he leveled a gaze at her.

"If we do not, we risk inciting war against Spain. We cannot allow things to come to that."

The King sighed as he reached for her hand.

"Leia," He muttered, gently tugging her along, moving further down the hall, "We cannot delay this any longer. It must be done."

"But," Leia too sighed, "But marriage to someone he does not love? How…" she swallowed, "He will not agree to it. And nor do I. He needs someone to love him. He needs that sunlight, Han."

Han groaned.

"No, he needs to protect this kingdom, ensure of an alliance before war descends. Don't either one of you understand that! My hands are tied. For the good of the kingdom it must be done."

With a low slew of curses, the king turned on his heel and marched down the hall towards his son's room.

"Ben!"

Throwing the door open, Han sauntered into the room, his boots slapping against the thick, plush carpeting.

"Ben!" He bellowed again, sauntering towards the bed, "We have to make arrangements for Spain. Enough of this childish-"

The king made the mistake of casting a glance towards the window, his words dying in his throat as he noted the way the panes sat askew, open to the night air. A cool breeze wafted through. Fluttering the curtains and sending the king into another series of curses as he noted several sheets knotted together to form a long, sturdy rope by which his son had escaped the confines of his room and-consequently-the palace walls.

Han vaguely registered the low 'oh no' from Leia before he let out a loud command to the two soldiers standing guard outside the bedroom door.

"Find that boy and bring him back!"

* * *

It was the chortling of the chickens outside the kitchen door that woke her.

With a start Rey squinted at the ceiling, noting, with some annoyance, that there was a long crack in the plastered mud that insulated the kitchen.

She'd have to fix that before others in the household noticed.

But first?

With swift movements, Rey was on her feet, setting aside her tattered copy of  _Utopia_ and wiping her hands of the soot that resided due to her proximity to the large fireplace she'd slept by last night, Rey made her way to the door, grabbing the remnants of yesterday's supper to feed to the pigs on her way out.

Feed the pigs.

Collect the eggs.

Water the horses.

Running through her chores was a mindless, task and afforded the young girl the opportunity to ponder her latest queries with the current chapter she'd been rereading. With each go-through, she was left with more questions than answers and she half wondered if her parents had intended this particular gift to be one that riddled her and frustrated her endlessly.

Not that it mattered,she knew, but Rey took comfort in considering the thoughtful care that her father must have put into gifting this book to her.

At least, she hoped that was the case, for without its stimulating pages, Rey was certain she'd go mad from the mind-numbing and backbreaking work she and Poe and Finn put into the maintenance of the farm. And, she supposed, it afforded her the opportunity to remind herself that at one time someone loved and cared for her like a daughter instead of a servant.

She'd never met her mother, who'd passed long before her first memories formed.

As for her father?

Rey sighed, banishing the uncomfortable emotions before they could overwhelm her.

Best not to think of such things...

So, Rey continued to speculate and mull over the potential solutions to the questions that unabashedly littered her thoughts as she finished each chapter again and again.

'Could it be possible?' she mused, running a hand along the trunk of one of the many apple trees in their orchard. 'Could there really be such a thing as equality and utopian peace?'

Rey cast her eyes upward, peeking through the thick branches of the trees, watching as the slight morning breeze brushed the leaves to and fro, making the sunlight dance across the boughs. Shadows waved back and forth across the flesh of the pink apples the hung high above her head, sitting in contrast to the rich green leaves, brown branches and glittering blue sky.

The scents that wafted to her nose were rich, vibrant and enticing. Apple blossom, dewey grass, and the soft soil blended together in a heady scent that calmed Rey's tightly wound nerves as she picked through the recently fallen fruit in her pursuit of the ripest, and most enticing offerings.

She supposed this moment, in the early morning, beneath the boughs of her modest home's orchards, was the closest she might get to that supposed utopian society.

* * *

He let out a growl of frustration as his horse slipped a shoe, nearly sending the young prince onto his back in the mud. As it was, fortunately, he was spared that embarrassment, though only just.

As it was, he was able to straighten himself, before he landed on the ground, and hastily calm the frazzled horse who seemed ready to bolt after their rapid escape from the palace walls.

Rubbing Cesar's muzzle, Ben strained his ears, listening for the sound of trumpets, horse's hooves or the shouting commands of the guard who were, undoubtedly, closing in on his location.

Surprisingly, and-Ben narrowed his eyes-rather interestingly, the young man was only met with the low chirping of birdsong, and the soft whisper of the wind through the trees of the orchard nearby.

Sucking in a large breath, Ben let his eyes slip closed and simply relished in the freedom of the countryside and the solitude he found himself in.

He knew it wouldn't last. He knew they'd find him and drag him back to that forsaken fortress they had the audacity to call a castle. And he knew they he'd be forced to marry a Spanish princess he didn't love, didn't know, and didn't care to know, all for the sake of his father's political machinations.

He was nothing to the man, nothing but a pawn, a piece to be moved.

He was but a servant to the country, bound by his station, his title, his father's heritage.

And he'd have to honor that eventually.

He filled his lungs again, relishing in the dampness of the soil and how its scent mixed with the smell of pine and birch and apple. He felt the warmth of the sunlight flittering over his face, chasing away the cool autumn morning air.

For now, this would do.

And he wasn't too keen to give this up just yet...

Ben's eyes slowly opened and he glanced around, searching for some semblance of civilization...some home that he might...borrow a new steed from. At least for the time being.

He was no thief, after all.

* * *

She as returning, an apron-full of apples-ripe, juicy, and mouthwatering-in her apron, when she heard the anxious neighing of one of the horses. Confused, Rey hastened up the south steps to the upper terrace of the grounds.

The horses were supposed to be in the stable. Why on earth…?

She stopped short, her anger boiling at the sight of a hooded figure, trying to drag the dappled steed-her father's horse-from the property.

She dropped her apron, spilling the apples, her hands clenching into fists as she watched the horse resist the man's urgings (and swearings), as he tugged on the animals' reins.

"Come on you blasted beast!" The man's deep voice reverberated through the silent morning air, just cooperate you stupid animal!"

He tugged harsher on the reins, yanking the horse's head down more level to his own face.

The creature-a gentle, steady soul Rey'd come to find-shook its head, trying to pull from the man's threatening grasp, his large, pale hands straining against the thick leather reins as the horse whined and tugged backwards, hooves coming lightly off the ground. Though his face was covered by the dark burgundy cloak. His boots, she noted, were covered in a thick layer of dust, as he continued his struggles.

It was a particularly rough shake of the reins, and the low series of cursing that finally snapped Rey to attention and she hastily reached for a few of her discarded apples, feeling the smooth, cool skin of the tree fruit beneath her fingers.

Narrowing her gaze she pulled back…

And hurled the firm fruit towards the man, beaning the foul, pilfering louse in the head.

* * *

"Thief!"

The call erupted as something hard collided with the side of Ben's head, sending him backwards, in surprise, the reins slipping from his fingers as he tried to register what was going on. Stars danced before his eyes and his vision blurred as a fierce ache laced his abdomen.

Another object connected with his shoulder this time, before a third managed to bean him in the forehead.

With a groan, he released the reins and stumbled backwards, scrambling to grab the hood of his cloak and throw it off before the offender could do further damage, not realizing he was a prince.

Another barb struck his boot and he slipped this time, falling flat on his back .

"Please!" Admonished, "I was only meaning to borrow the horse. My own slipped a shoe!"

"And our choice was to what? Let you?" The girl growled, as yet another object collided with the man, beaning him square in the forehead just has he managed to get the offensively large hood of his cape off his head.

He was met with shockingly brilliant sunlight, vibrant green grass and the tantalizingly blue sky before his attention was diverted towards a low gasp.

Rising hastily to his feet, feeling the warmth of embarrassment creeping along his own neck, he caught sight of chestnut hair pooling around shoulders glad in rough blue homespun dress and a white chemise, fingers digging into the soft earth.

"Forgive me highness I did not see you!"

The comment was directed towards the ground and Ben had a hard time distinguishing the girl's features, as her gaze remained tilted to the earth. She avoided all eye contact, as a servant must do, though Ben found her sudden meekness and submission quite amusing.

He raised a hand to the tender knot on his forehead and grimaced,

"Your aim would suggest otherwise."

"I am sorry your highness" She repeated lowly, "For my insolence I know I must die."

Ben balked at her resignation. He was rather surprised at the sheer acceptance she had for her fate. A fate, he noted, that was decided by a simple mistake…

And his supposition that he could take their horse.

Hadn't she called it her father's horse?

Ben cast a quick glance to the now docile dapple to his left, noting that a large manor stood several meters up the hillside, the first rays of sunlight beginning to shimmer across the deep grey brickwork. He marvelled, for a moment at the glass panes and how the golden hues of dawn illuminated their frames, reflecting, almost like a mirror, back towards him.

He turned his attention back towards the young woman in blue, still curious about seeing the face of one with so keen an aim.

That is, until there was a long, low trumpet blast in the distance that had him straightening, diverting his attention, once more, to his mission of escape.

He shook his head and rubbed the knot on his forehead once again a low string of curses escaping his lips.

"Speak of this to no one," he remarked darkly, "And perhaps I shall be lenient."

With long strides through the thicket of grass and brush, Ben made his way towards the horse once more and with a more gentle grip on the reins, hoisted himself atop the beautiful beast. The well bred creature tossed it's head back, the long maple tendrils of his mane whipping Ben lightly across the cheek.

"We have other horses highness," The girl spoke again, crouching before him, palms splayed across the grass, messy curling hair cascading down her shoulders, "Younger, and faster steeds, if that is your wish."

He glowered half-heartedly at the horse, a smirk working its way to his face as the impertinent creature tossed its mane again, as if to agree with the young woman.

Then, casting a glance towards the still kneeling girl Ben's gaze turned contemplative for a moment. Though he knew her to be of a lower class, with a much less privileged life than he experienced, Ben couldn't help but marvel at the freedom the young woman lived through. She could come and go as needed, never worrying about guardians, or overbearing rulers interfering with the day to day experiences of her life.

The smirk disappeared from his lips as a pang of longing filled him.

"I wish only for freedom" He muttered, a wisp of jealousy working its way through him "Freedom from that gilded cage I seem to be born to."

Ben, of course knew that he was over simplifying the situation, knew that he was far more free than this servant, this peasant, would ever be, but right now he felt trapped, suffocated, and forced to live a life not meant for him.

In a huff he removed a small leather pouch from his belt and tossed it towards the young girl who had yet to raise her head (something that vexed him, if he were honest).

The pouch landed before the girl, the soft clattering of metal echoing through the still air.

He urged the horse forward, passing by the young woman with nothing but a nod towards her down turned face.

"Compensation for your silence," He muttered, before urging the horse into a hard trot, willing the creature to help him escape the confines of privilege and diplomacy.

* * *

To say Rey was embarrassed was an understatement.

To even say that she'd been mortified was an understatement.

Rey watched the man-the prince-hasten away from the estate aloft her father's horse and she felt the growing warmth on her cheeks at her actions.

She'd pelted the prince of France with apples!

And now? Now she'd been forgiven as well as 'compensated' as the man had declared when he tossed the small pouch of coins towards her.

Rey scrambled to her feet and peered a moment more at the retreating figure, noting the small curling billows of dust from the road, as the young man-atop his pilfered horse-grew ever smaller.

As the sun obscured her view of the prince's retreating form, she wondered at his words about freedom. She'd certainly detected a hint of morose sensitivity in his air and his thoughtful commentary, but she had to wonder why. Why, with so much at his disposal would he seek refuge in the wilderness, away from the castle, away from comforts? Why retreat from his title?

Rey peered down at the small pouch-the coin pouch-that lay haphazard in the grass-as the long, high pitched call of a trumpet resounded in the still morning air. What few birds remained in the trees, this late in the summer season, fluttered and dispersed into the sky as the thundering pound of horse hooves reverberated through the ground, paralleling the repeated trumpet calls that tore through the air.

Rey cast her eyes down to the money pouch again, the small, delicate stitching along the smooth, soft material of the outer bag. The craftsmanship of such a small item fascinated Rey and she wondered how someone could so easily dispose of such a thing as easily as the prince had.

As another trumpet call rang in her ears, Rey hastily bent down and retrieved the bag, surprised at the weight the pouch contained. A thought and a plan were forming in her head and she...well she could at least try to do something significant with this small compensation from the 'angel of mercy'.

The girl quickly ducked her head down as the hoofbeats of the soldiers grew louder. Focusing her attention on the ground-unwilling to meet the gaze of any of the officers of the king as they hastily passed her by, she resumed her duties for the morning (hoping she would not be besieged by any curious or inquiring persons). She took note of the sizable collection of apples still at her feet, waiting to be recollected and taken to the kitchen.

Letting the coin purse slip carefully into the deep pocket of her apron, Rey hastily snatched the apples, throwing a few of the now bruised fruits aside to feed to the pigs later on. Her nails brushed over the rich, dark soil that peeked through the thin blades of grass.

She'd have to hurry…

* * *

There was a loud crash and a shrill command for more bread and salt…

And that the eggs weren't up to standards

And the plates weren't as clean as they ought to be.

And the silver was mismatched...

Maz Kanata resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she scrambled to assemble the rest of the bowls and plates, keeping a careful eye on the large loaf of bread that sat steaming next to the hearth.

Just a few more minutes and it'd be ready to serve.

"Where, in God's name is our bread!"

The snivelling, shrieking demand continued and Maz let out a sigh of annoyance, shooting a glare towards the low ceiling above his head, before locking eyes with Amilyn Holdo who sent her a wry smile before she too rolled her eyes.

"Oh, he's in one of his moods today isn't he?"

Rey's voice, soft and amused, pulled Maz's attention to the doorway where the woman in question bustled through, dropping six fresh, pink apples into the awaiting bowl.

She snorted at Rey's sarcastic comment.

"Does the sun rise in the east?" Amilyn quipped in reply, reaching for the large apples, prepared to clean the dirt from their skins, her rough hands scouring the tender flesh of the proffered fruit. They glistened, tantalizing and sweet in appearance, their ripe, pink and golden skins begging to be bitten into.

Not that she'd be one to savor such a treat. No, all delicacies were served to the upper class, privileged, smarmy, philandering-

Maz stopped her train of thought before her anger got the better of her.

The apples would make make a tasty addition to dinner…' She surmised, scanning the shelves, carefully assessing the stores for ingredients, taking a mental tally of what they'd need from the market.

It was a shame, though, she wouldn't be able to taste them...

As she dragged the plaster bowl across the thick, deeply ridged, knotty wood, Maz's ears pricked at the sound of clinking.

More specifically, her ears detected the sound of metal clinking against the hard, surface of the table behind her.

What an odd sound...

"Yes Amilyn, the sun does indeed rise in the East!"

Rey's voice was joyous as she produced several glittering gold coins from the pocket of her apron, her dark eyes twinkling in amusement at the sight she'd elicited.

"And it's going to be a beautiful day."

And, just like that, for the first time in a long time, Maz saw Rey's entire being light up, a genuine, easy smile gracing her lips, her eyes twinkled in merriment a renewed warmth burning within them.

It certainly wasn't the first time Maz had seen Rey happy, that is, but rather it was the first time in many years that the girl's smile reached her eyes, truly transformed her face, and showed her vulnerability and compassion.

And her youth.

She'd not been that way since her father had died and yet here she stood, dirt smudged on her cheek, the smattering of freckles standing out across the bridge of her nose as her brow glistened with a thin sheen of sweat. But, nothing mattered but that smile that spread across the entirety of her face, her mouth, curved through her cheeks and highlighted her dimples, making her eyes crinkle lightly.

She looked as though she were walking on a cloud as her hands gripped different bits and bowls for the upstairs.

"Oh my!" Holdo remarked, a small squawk of surprise escaping her lips as she fingered the thick pieces of gold that lay in the center of the table, standing as a stark contrast to the rich, deep burgundy wood of the table. "Where did you get all these feathers, lass?! They're...they're wonderful!"

Maz narrowed her eyes in curiosity as Rey's cheeks took on a rosy hue and she averted her gaze from the inquiring eyes.

Oh there seemed to be a rather amusing story behind the appearance of these coins.

Maz smirked as Rey swallowed and averted her eyes for a moment, a look of utter embarrassment coloring her features.

"From an angel of mercy," she remarked softly, "I-uh-well I managed to hit a would-be thief with apples as he tried to make off with our horse and…"

She trailed off, refusing to meet Maz's eyes for she knew she'd find a look of amusement there. Maz was certain there was something far more entertaining associated with this story than the girl let on, but the elder woman didn't have the heart in her to provoke Rey further. She looked flustered enough already, her chestnut hair falling in whisps about her face, as she bit her bottom lip in consternation.

Maz smiled to herself and turned back to her work, taking the time to slice a few pieces of bread before arranging them on the platter for Rey to take upstairs. The warm scents of freshly ground wheat mixed with the honey and eggs filled the small kitchen.

Delectable…

"And I know just what to do with them."

Rey's voice had gone soft as she peered at Maz through her thick eyelashes, all traces of embarrassment gone from her face, her smile still fixed on her lips (though softer and gentler now).

It took Maz a few beats to understand what the young girl was implying, for her to really understand what was happening…

Or what could happen.

And for the first time in the last several months, she allowed her steely, cheerful facade to waiver as a lump formed in her throat.

"Luke?"

Holdo's voice was soft as she moved closer to the young girl, searching Rey's face, questioning her motives. Maz knew that deserpate look of longing, of appreciation, and desperation that Holdo held.

She knew how much Luke meant to her.

"If the Baron can tear this family apart then these coins can certainly bring us back together again, can they not?"

"But you're a servant," Maz cut in, admiring Rey's determination but wary of what seemed to be a fool's hope. "No one will believe a servant with a purse full of gold francs."

Rey turned to Maz, balancing the different dishes of bread and eggs in her hands as she assessed the elder woman before her.

She smiled at the woman.

"I have to at least try. If he can sell Luke to pay his debts then this could bring him back again. If I don't risk it I'll never know." Rey sighed her smile drooping a little as she dipped her head towards the ground, her gaze tearing away from Maz's. "I couldn't live with myself if I didn't at least try."

* * *

Rey sucked in a silent breath as she made her way to the dining room, her ears picking up the soft scraping of forks and spoons against the china.

"What kept you?" The question was soft, directed towards her as soon as her footfalls reverberated against the wood floor.

She turned her face towards the other occupants of the table, wary of making eye contact with him just yet.

Carefully Rey set down the large platter of bread and the smaller plates of eggs, one in front the of the blonde beauty who sat sipping her water and the other…

She met the man's eyes this time, his expectant face peering back at her as she set down the man's breakfast.

"I-uh," What to say?

"I fell in the orchard and hit my head," she murmured in reply, "But I'm alright now."

She silently willed the trinkets in her apron pocket to refuse to jingle as she walked carefully around the table to remove herself from the room, not willing to wait for the man's answer.

Though, said man, the Baron to be exact, only narrowed his gaze at her, blue eyes searching her face as he reached for his cup, a scowling frown permanently fixed on his face.

"It would seem someone's been reading fireplace again…" There was a small, smirking huff that escaped the girl's lips as Rey turned her attention to the blonde beauty before her, "Look at you, ash and soot everywhere. Hardly respectable. Too bad you didn't hit your head harder in that orchard, eh Cinder-soot? Knock some sense into you."

Rey, to her credit, did not take the bait. Instead, she smiled at Lady Phasma, watching the woman narrow her smug, sultry blue eyes at her and pucker her lips in disdain. Oh how she wanted to remark with something, to show her her own ineptitude. Instead of saying anything, she turned her attention towards the other occupant in the room, Lord Finn, handing him his small plate of soft boiled eggs before turning to escape the confines of the aristocratic entitlement that the statuesque lady exuded and prided herself on.

Finn sent her a soft smile, his rich chocolate eyes searching her face briefly, before narrowing in suspicion as he took in the tightness around her mouth and eyes and (more than likely) noted the tense energy coiled in her shoulders.

He knew her well. He knew something had happened.

He knew she'd lied and was trying to cover herself from discovery.

"Just a moment Rey,"

The girl's steps faltered as she returned her gaze towards the Baron, her heart leaping to her throat as he reached forth and grasped her wrist, his bony fingers digging into the tender flesh nearest her palm.

Baron Armitage Hux's scrutinizing gaze sent Rey's heart pounding in her ears. His hawkish, sapphire eyes scanned her face briefly, the downturn of his lips deepening as he took in her appearance: ruffled, rumpled and sooty clothing (smattered with bits of mud from her earlier...scuffle in the orchard) and her mussed hair (though it was still tied back and presentable enough, she thought).

Compared to his perfectly coiffed blonde hair and pressed suit, she did look a bit worn and tattered. And Rey felt the slightest inklings of embarrassment and annoyance at the man's obvious disdain at her presence.

He didn't like her. Never had. And Rey was certain that Armitage Hux would do whatever he could to ensure that she felt isolated, friendless, and lowly compared to he and his family.

"In the future," Lord Hux muttered, his timbre dangerously low, "Do try to look presentable. After all I've done for you, is it not enough for you to try to abide by my rules? You drag soot and ash and mud into the household with your wayward... your tardiness can hardly be called diligent behavior. Don't you care for the manor? Don't you care for your mother and father's...legacy?"

He wrinkled his nose at the obvious allusion to her sentimentality.

And her loneliness.

It set Rey's blood boiling, though she tamped down the urge to rip her hand from that man's bony, steely grip.

Best not to cause a scene. It'd lead to another lashing and she was still smarting from the last one.

Instead, she merely nodded her head in agreement.

"Of course step-father," She remarked woodenly, her voice echoing in her ears. "I shall endeavor to please you. Forgive me."

With a 'tsk' the man squeezed her arm again, tightly this time, his nails digging into her flesh (and making the girl wince) before he released her to scuttle away.

Rey didn't wait on her retreat back down the stairs, the heavy pocketful of coins now her only focus.

* * *

"Have you lost your marbles?! Do you know what penalty is for servants who dress above their station?"

"Five days in the stocks, if I remember correctly" Rey remarked flippantly, lightly punching Finn in the arm as she eased off her shoes.

"This will never work," Finn muttered.

He was skeptical, worried, and leery of allowing Rey to go through with this bizarre plan of hers. Finn knew that Rey was mad, foolhardy, and completely obtuse when it came to societal conventions and protocol.

Or perhaps she just didn't care? When he'd cornered her shortly after breakfast as she stood scouring the pots and china, he learned of her mishap in the orchard and the kindness of the hooded stranger who'd left her a generous stipend for her silence in his presence at the manor that morning.

Twenty gold francs.

Twenty gold francs and she intended to use them to rescue Luke from imprisonment. She intended to save Luke-the same man who'd comforted Rey when her own mother had died-or when Finn had been whipped by Hux-his father-when Finn had express a desire to study art.

While he found it admirable and quite beautiful of her to attempt such a feat, Finn couldn't shake the fear he felt at this plan.

"No one's going to buy this ruse of yours" he muttered, rubbing his hands together in agitation before tossing his waistcoat onto the chaise. His eyes briefly moved to the dressing screen and the deep crimson gown that was thrown over the top it. He watch the waifish silhouette behind said screen, scrambling to remove stockings and the rough cotton chemise he knew she frequently favored when she had a rough day out of doors to tend to.

She was determined.

* * *

Finn sighed and reaching for the long, fine wooden brush nearest the easel he turned his attention to his latest work, focus on the soft brushstrokes of the treeline he'd been attempting to perfect for weeks. So far nothing was working in his favor and he'd painted and repainted the same small corner several times.

"No one's going to believe a servant with gold francs either" Rey muttered from behind the screen, a grunt escaping her lips as she struggled with the heavy, rich silk of the borrowed dress (that he-admittedly-helped her remove from the manor).

"I'm Luke's only hope. You know that. I have to do something."

"But you'll never convince anyone of her being a courtier" Finn snorted, eyes narrowing in the the small branches that he'd tried to delicately add them into the mixture of light and dark greens. "You are too sweet."

Rey let out a low laugh at that comment.

"You know that's not true. I'm hardly sweet. Nor demure."

Finn resisted the urge to grin at the girl's petulance as he peered out the window, watching the duo below in the market's square, watching Hux and Lady Phasma down below subjecting the poor brooch vendor to a verbal lashing.

He held back the groan of displeasure but rolled his eyes at the events unfolding below him.

"It needs to be bigger! Draw some attention!" Armitage Hux hed up the smaller, pearl encrusted bauble towards Phasmas's decolletage, glowering at the vendor with his customary withering glare.

Finn knew that look well. He'd been subjected to it many a time.

"I'm afraid, Lord Hux, that anything bigger might make her fall over."

"You have no idea how much sweeter you are than any courtier" Finn disagreed with Rey's assessment, scowling through the windowpane before returning to his painting. He doused his brush into the small cup of water before wiping the 'paint with the old, tattered paint rag, blotting the residual green and brown tones that'd remained on the bristles before looking at his color pallette again.

There were a few places within the sky-scape that he wanted to refine a bit more and forget about his family within the market square squandering money and causing the gossip mill to run.

"What are they doing down stairs?" Rey's voice called from beneath the screen. Finn could hear the hesitancy and the undercurrent of anger laced through her words.

Not that Finn blamed her for her annoyance.

He felt the same way. He loathed the selfish, arrogant and entitled nature his father and sister exhibited. He hated the way they treated him and each member of the manor, looking down on the servants and subjecting Rey to horrendous abuses to force her in submission and how his father had mocked Finn's love of art and desire to become a painter.

They'd all been subjected to lashings, verbal beatings, and watched as property was destroyed and abuse dolled out to each of them, Finn included.

He also hated that he couldn't do anything about it, just yet, or risk eliciting further harm to his friends if he were to fail.

He couldn't rescue them, or himself, from the abuse.

Not yet anyway. No, he had to wait, had to save and plan...

"They're buying a brooch," He muttered darkly, refusing to return to the window, instead focusing on his painting.

A painting his father would never see, never know about.

"Unbelievable," Rey hissed "We have no money to support the manor and yet he feels as though he can flaunt untold riches to appear at the top of the social ladder. Ridiculous."

"That's the courtier lifestyle" Finn snorted turning towards the screen, waiting for the girl to walk out. "Which is why you won't fit-"

His words caught as his step-sister, and best friend walked out in the layered fabric of the silk dress. The long sleeves gathered at the elbow, accentuating her thin, willowy arms and slender shoulders. The soft crimson fabric illuminated the soft tan of her collar, neck, and cheeks. Her hazel eyes sparkled in contrast to the deep red color.

Finn's mouth ran dry and he felt his heart seize slightly at the reality that his step sister, his comfort and solace and friend, who he'd seen sling mud and climb trees, who was often covered in soot and dirt and other bits and bobs, suddenly appeared so refined and elegant and every inch the courtier he'd just claimed she could not be.

He instantly regretted his earlier words.

But Finn couldn't say anything, didn't know what to say really as he watched Rey fiddle with the sleeves that ran just a tad too long and the exposed portion of her collar. She bit her lip and peered at her step brother, her eyes swimming with trepidation and wariness.

It surprised Finn that the girl was suddenly so self-conscious, surprised him that she was feeling doubt.

"I don't know if I can do this," Rey admitted quietly, fiddling with her chestnut locks, "To say I can rescue Luke is one thing, but to actually do it? What do I...How do I even approach this?"

Finn set his brush aside, placing his pallette on the table as he walked towards the girl who was more a sister to him than his won flesh and blood.

He smiled at Rey and grabbed her hands.

"If, If you are going to be a courtier, you must play the part," He remarked, tucking a hand under her chin and lifting her gaze until it was levelled at him.

"You lower your gaze to no one. You must be confident, sure footed, and willing to stand for what you believe in. Don't let anyone intimidate you."

Finn squeezed her hands lightly.

"And don't go chewing on bones or slinging mud or you'll give yourself away."

Rey snorted in amusement and ducked her head to avoid the flick that Finn lodged at her forehead.

"However," He hummed thoughtfully, pulling Rey closer, "We'll have to do something about that hair. Come dear sister. Let us get you ready for your debut."

* * *

Ben was cursing silently as he trudged up the long walkway back to the palace. He's since dismounted, his own steed, having returned the borrowed one back to the Chateau, where much to his chagrin, he noted Baron Hux and his family lived.

His feet made a funny squelching noise inside his boots with each footfall and he noted the uncomfortable way the fabric of his damp tunic scratched at his skin.

'Still' he mused silently, 'It was a highlight of the day.'

He'd escaped the confines of the castle, stolen a horse (at the peril of a rain of apples and a fiery servant), and managed to rescue a masterpiece for the very man he'd been trying to seek out.

Leonardo Da Vinci.

The epitome of forward-thinking and progress.

The same man who was on HIS way to seek out his position at court. It would seem that he'd been hired by Ben's father, the king, to reside at the castle permanently.

Something he'd failed to mention to Ben.

"You're a very loud thinker, your highness."

Speaking of Da Vinci…

Ben turned his attention towards the elderly man, who was walking languidly behind the royal, his hands clasped in front of him, a thoughtful look on his wizened face.

Of course, there was also the small upturn of the artist's mouth that suggested he'd been scrutinizing the prince in a rather amused manner, finding fault as it were.

It made Ben feel self-conscious even as it put him at ease with the wise inventor and creator. He felt every bit the prince he was born to be even as he felt very much still a child in eyes of a man he revered.

"What do you mean?" He remarked, levelling his own gaze at the older man, his own gaze narrowing in expectation for what remark might come forward.

"Merely that you are more apparent than you originally think" Da Vinci remarked flippantly, his brow quirking upward. "It can be both a service and a detriment to your character."

Ben frowned at the man, wiping a wayward lock of hair from his forehead as he did.

"You speak in circles" He muttered lowly, "You seem to read my thoughts whereas I'm left pondering yours."

Da Vinci waved the young prince off, his smile widening.

"I mean nothing by it, your Highness" he remarked, a cheerful "Simply that you appear, by all accounts to detest being here and as if you've not found your footing or purpose yet."

Ben blinked in surprise, his footfalls faltering at the man's assertions.

They rang true.

And it was the first time anyone had ever made such a comment to him.

Was he really that transparent?

And was the rest of the world really that unobservant?

"Not everyone can see the world the way you do, Master Da Vinci" He muttered a little heatedly. "We have not the freedom."

"Tosh," Da Vinci replied, sidestepping the prince and continuing up the walkway, "Perhaps you simply have not found the right inspiration. And I don't think you'll find that by running away."

Ben resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he averted his gaze to his feet, feeling sufficiently chastised by the man's words.

"Oh pardon me!"

There was a soft shove and the hastening footfalls that brought the prince's gaze back up in surprise. He watched a small, lithe young woman maneuver past him, seemingly unaware that he was, in fact, the heir to the throne. The rich crimson of her gown billowed behind her as she scurried past him, hands grasped tightly to lift the heavy skirts as she moved.

Her rich, dark hair was pulled away from her face, though it flowed freely down her back, a pair of braids the only styling therein.

And though he didn't see the woman's face as she flurried past him, his interest was piqued.

Separating himself from his returning party, he moved to follow the girl.

* * *

"I wish to address the issue of this gentleman!"

While her voice was steady, and her grip on the horse's reigns were firm, Rey's heart was hammering wildly in her chest and her legs shook in trepidation.

'Lord give me strength' she thought. 'Let this work.'

"He is my servant and I have come to pay the debt against him."

Her voice remained firm as she leveled her gaze at the portly drive before her. The weather-wearied man, with ample bits of dark scruff on his face and trickles of sweat falling down his brow, squinted at her in displeasure, his brown eyes curious and assessing.

"Aren't you a little late, lass?" He remarked, "He's already be bought and paid for as you see."

And indeed she could see. She could see the thick iron gates that surrounded the wearied men who stood confined within the wagon.

She spied Luke, dressed in his torn, tattered robes and tunic, and dirt smudges on his face. His beard had gotten longer, the hair atop his head a bit more unruly. Though, it did nothing to hide the glittering blue eyes that gazed at her with a mixture of surprise and concern.

"I can pay you twenty gold francs." She remarked, swallowing back her worry and placing all her attention towards the driver. "Surely that's a palatable bargain?"

This had to work.

She held up the homespun money bag and shook the contents until the unmistakable sound of

The greasy man simply shook his head, a leering grin on his face. "Aye but you could have me for twenty gold francs."

He winked at her before signalling for the horses to drive on.

Rey steadied her footing.

She wouldn't let this go. She had to succeed.

She briefly cast a look towards Luke who stood within the confines of the gated wagon, his hands wrapped tightly around the metal bars that held him captive, eyes riveted towards the scene she'd created.

"Do you honestly think it right to chain people up like chatal?" She remarked heatedly, glaring towards the man, "It's disgusting. Servants are not property at all. I demand that you release him."

The man huffed and stood atop his cart, his beady eyes narrowing further as he glowered down at the girl.

"And I told you ta get outta my way!"

* * *

"You dare to raise your voice to a lady?"

The question came out of his mouth before knew what he was doing.

Ben stepped forward, fists clenched at his side as he eyed the cart driver, before casting a brief glance towards the girl who had her head bowed lowly.

At first he was flummoxed by the girls forward behavior, then amazed at her candor and resilience. He'd never met courtier to do something like that.

The better question?  _Why?_

"I'm sorry, sir. I meant no offence, but you see your father is tha one that sold these thieves."

Ben's ears pricked at the sound of the girl's scoff.

She met his gaze, lifting her chin lightly.

"A servant is not a thief, your highness," she muttered, "And those who are cannot help themselves."

"Oh really?"

The prince's tone was curious as he peered at her, "Well then, do enlighten us."

* * *

Rey swallowed, and flexed her fingers, stepping forward.

She could do this.

"For if you suffer your people to be ill-educated, and their manners to be corrupted from their infancy, and then punish them for those crimes to which their first education disposed them, what else is to be concluded from this, but that you first make thieves and then punish them."

Pulling from her familiarity with More's words, she let the thoughts flow to her lips, feeling a swell of pride at the philosophies that her father held in high esteem. Speaking them aloud to such a prestigious audience was daunting to say the least, and the prince's neutral expression didn't ease her anxiety, but presenting her case, however trivial he might find it, was the highest moment of courage should lived through.

She knew her father would have been proud.

She knew it was a fool's errand to attempt this, and it had been a wishful hope to think that she could free her friend. But she still remained hopeful as she stared up at the prince, noting the strikingly dark eyes, framed by long, ebony lashes as they assessed her, scanning her face for...something.

Abruptly, the prince blinked, and turned towards the cart and driver. He swallowed, his throat bobbing awkwardly.

"Well you heard the lady, release him."

In surprise, the man dropped his reins, is mouth falling open as he furrowed his brow.

"But, sire, your father's already sold-"

"I said," Rey flinched at the frustration and weariness in the Prince's tone, "Release him."

The wagon driver seemed just as surprised as Rey but had the good sense to nod in deference to the prince's status and command.

Rey hurriedly moved forward and handed the wagon driver the promised coins and waited, eagerly for the gate to be unlocked and opened.

Rey stood to the side as Luke hesitantly stepped forward and slowly extricated himself from the other prisoners, and hopped from the cart. His eyes alight in wonder and confusion, the older man, grisled beard grown more grey during his confinement and lines more defined around his eyes and mouth, Luke stepped forward.

"I thought, for just a moment, that I was looking at your mother," he murmured softly, a smile on his cracked lips. "She would have been most proud of you."

Rey tried to hide the way the words affected her.

"Meet me at the bridge," she muttered quietly before raising her voice, "Prepare the horses at once! We shall leave immediately."

Luke nodded once before hobbling off, his footfalls stiff from underuse.

Rey watched him round the corner and head down towards the stables, and then the bridge, before she turned back towards the prince, a smile on her lips.

She noted they deep, thoughtful look in the man's eyes, as well as the questions that seemed to swim beneath the surface. The girl felt the heat rise on the back of her neck and the funny, uneasy feeling that settled in her stomach. She felt as though she were being stripped bare, her thoughts being picked over carefully, under the man's fierce stare.

Rey knew she needed to get out of the courtyard as quickly as possible. She didn't know how much longer she could keep up under the prince's scrutinizing gaze.

Breaking the staring match she found herself in, Rey bowed her head and curtsied, before smiling briefly at the Prince.

"I thank you for your kindness."

* * *

"Have we met before?"

Ben made after the girl, marveling at her speed.

"I-uh, don't believe so, your highness."

Her response was hesitant, more subdued.

And she was pointedly refusing to make eye contact.

"I could have sworn I knew every courtier in the provence," he continued flippantly, "Your face is one I would remember."

The girl cast a brief glance towards the man before reverting her gaze back towards her destination, the front gate of the courtyard.

"Well I am...visiting a cousin."

"Oh really?" He remarked lowly, brow quirking at her deliberate reluctance to talk to him. "Which one?"

"Well, the only one I have, naturally," The girl cast him another furtive glance before hastening her movements.

"Are you-are you coy on purpose or do you honestly refuse to tell me your name?"

The girl halted only briefly, turning to face Ben once more, her eyes showing a pensive, thoughtful gaze. She frowned, and bit her lip briefly, a move he'd never seen a courtier do before.

"No, uh," she began before nodding her head and smiling, "And yes, I suppose."

The girl swiveled around and resumed her walk.

Ben groaned inwardly at the sheer effort it was taking him to gain this girl's attention. She was clever, he'd give her that.

"Well, then tell me your cousin's name so that I may call on her. For, anyone that can quote Thomas More is well worth the effort."

As he predicted, the girl slowed and stilled and slowly turned to face him, a look of surprise lighting her features. He watched, with mild fascination, how her mouth pulled into a smile, two dimples marking each of her cheeks.

"The prince had read  _Utopia._ "

Her marvel was admirable, he surmised, until she knew the truth about his feelings.

"Yes, but I found it sentimental and dull." He remarked flippantly, noting how the light slowly dissipated from the girl's gaze. "I confess that an analysis of the every rustics bores me greatly."

"I take it you don't speak with many peasants then." Her voice had deflated, a timbre of annoyance lacing her words. "You could certainly gain a new perspective if you would."

"Why on earth would I ever?" Ben retorted, waving his hand in dismissal. The thought of what the girl suggested was absurd at the very least.

He was a prince. And with that position came respect and a world that no peasant could understand.

"I wish I could dismiss the fact that your entire country's character is defined by the everyday rustics as you call them. You should take some pride in it, not-"

"Am I to take it that you find me...arrogant?"

Ben was confused. He'd supposed that this girl would look at him as the other courtiers did, particularly the women. He'd let his pride help him along, assure him that this girl would be no different.

And yet…

"Well yes, if you must know."

Now the girl was fulling facing him, her eyes narrowed in assessment. And, in that moment Ben never felt so exposed, and so vulnerable.

"You take no pride in working the land but laugh at those who do so for you. You neither appreciate nor consider the sacrifices that those, not born to nobility, must make to ensure the welfare of your country."

Ben swallowed back the sudden embarrassment at being laid so bare to the world. An unfamiliar feeling settled in his stomach and he worked to quell the discomfort he felt.

He hesitated for a moment, feeling strain under the girl's intense gaze.

"What, what would you have me do?" He remarked softly.

He blinked a few times.

Obviously taken aback the girl frowned at the prince. "You gave one man back his life, but did you spare a glance at any of the others?"

He was unsure of what to say, some way to refute her accusations, some way to quell the growing unease he felt in his belly.

Instead, he swallowed and watched at the girl turned again towards the gate.

He couldn't leave things like that.

"Please, a name?" He remarked. "Anything?"

* * *

"I-" Rey remarked softly, fear making her hands shake lightly, "I uh, I fear the only name to leave you with is, us Sabine De Lancret."

The prince smiled at her response, his eyes crinkling around the edges.

Rey didn't want to be here any more and turned away from the overly smug man.

"There now, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

She turned an frowned at the man, opening her mouth to reply.

"Benjamin!"

Rey's eyes widened at the queen's voice and she clamped her mouth shut.

Both she and prince broke their staring match and turned in unison towards the female monarch who was making her way slowly towards her son, a hoard of ladies traipsing behind her.

Rey never felt so out of place as she did now.

"Hello mother." the prince remarked drily.

"You're father would like a word with you, you know," Rey felt like an intruder into a private conversation as she heard the soft groan escape the prince's lips. However, she took the prince's distraction as a moment to hasten through the gate and down the long walkway, ducking into the trees when she was certain that no one was looking only breathing a sigh of relief when she was well out of sight of the castle.

Though that did nothing to assuage the fierce beating of her heart.


End file.
